[455] The Beginning of Change (7)
"Grab him!"
The remaining eighteen members of Cage B moved even faster.
After killing the carnivorous addict Benifis, Gaold's next targets were Black, who specialized in crowd control, and Joner Vang, a manipulator.
There was no way to eliminate Gaold by force alone.
They were counting on variables introduced by non-physical magic, and Gaold was methodically cutting those possibilities down.
'An amplifier mage…'
Gaold aimed at the word-mage Mami.
As hundreds of air-gun rounds targeted her each second, a bluish veil shimmered into being in front of her.
"Ugggh!"
Rider—renowned for his defensive magic, nicknamed an iron wall—felt the impact like the Spirit Zone itself shuddering.
Rose scanned the battlefield.
Three people were already dead. If Cage B's combat strength fell below half, the chance of taking Gaold down would approach zero, no matter what variables they tried.
'I have to gamble. At this rate, we'll fail.'
Rose shouted.
"Activate the Final Plan!"
The remaining soldiers' eyes flashed.
From now on, there would be no order to who died.
Metal mage Roche took point, Rider unfolded his barrier, and torrent mage Mongrang shaped water into a sea-dragon and hurled it at Gaold.
"Fools."
Gaold didn't even bother to scoff.
Any attack was smothered by a single Air Press that pressed everything into the earth.
At that moment, flowers began to bloom on Gaold's body. It was the spell Mongran—the magic of White, another crowd-control specialist who was already dead.
In the face of his younger brother's death, he had already given up his will to live. He knew even revenge was impossible.
'But you will die. No matter what.'
A spell made for that one, solitary purpose.
White's consciousness infiltrated Mongran's flowers and struck directly at Gaold's mind.
The deceased White collapsed, and the mind that had crossed the brink of death made Gaold flinch.
"Kruuuugh!"
As Gaold's resolve ruptured, the Great Primordial Inferno roared and braided through the space.
No one blinked at the maw's agonized screams, but White's Mongran turned to black ash and was carried beyond the horizon of hell.
'Hah. Pathetic life of mine…'
Aroella of Saltfire set unprecedented flames ablaze in both hands and charged Gaold.
'Never even got to have a proper romance.'
She'd sold her body, given her heart for money; in the end, the men had all left.
'Still… it was hot while it lasted, right?'
Hellfire Infinity!
A whirlwind of blistering heat tore through the Great Primordial Inferno. Gaold, his face contorted, crushed the flames with Air Press and rushed in.
Thinking of the smiling face of the last man she'd dated, Aroella smiled.
A sharp gust passed—and her face came clean off her neck.
Gaold smiled back at the grinning Aroella.
'Good eye. A fine mage.'
Whether he meant it or not, the departing Aroella smiled brightly.
Her faceless body lunged at Gaold and exploded.
Even a massive six-thousand-degree blast was crushed under Gaold's atmospheric pressure.
'Success.'
Rose allowed a trembling corner of her mouth to lift.
Gaold felt it too. Monoros, a scale mage and a Regulation Exception user, had stuck a sticker to the back of Gaold's neck.
Regulation Exception — Battle Arena.
A one-meter-diameter ring formed at his feet, and Gaold's body shrank and slid into it.
'A scale-type, huh.'
To everyone else it might have looked like a miniature in a toy, but from Gaold's perspective the shrunken arena was a lavish, enormous coliseum.
Monoros's Regulation Exception—reducing an opponent's scale to fit a specified space—was powerful precisely because it let them control the environment.
'Is there a way out?'
Gaold circled the arena, thinking of escape routes.
A scale adjustment this coercive wouldn't be affected by external forces.
And if Monoros wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't have designed the arena so that internal physical forces affected the outside.
'A time limit, or steps. Without that, you can't implement this environment.'
"The way to escape the Battle Arena is a step."
While everyone looked down at Gaold inside the ring, Monoros said it plainly.
"If you defeat the three monsters that appear in the arena, it will be lifted."
Tarvan spoke up.
"Even so, it's still the same scale, right?"
Monoros shook his head.
"There are two ways to enter an arena. One is to shrink via a sticker. The other is…"
Monoros rummaged in the bag at his side.
A huge octopus clung to his hand and writhed.
"Creatures that can fit into the arena can be deployed as-is."
"…I see."
At the same moment Tarvan finished, Monoros dropped the octopus.
Gaold watched a vast, slate-gray mass writhe down into the space that had been blue sky.
'A Voktopus.'
A Mediterranean species, ferocious and ravenous—a carnivorous mollusk that even attacks sharks larger than itself.
Starved for two days, the Voktopus lashed out with its barbed legs the instant it saw Gaold.
Gaold sharpened the air and sliced off the legs, then charged.
A brutal Air Press crushed the arena—but only Gaold felt that compression.
The Voktopus crumpled for a beat, then, apparently undamaged, swung its remaining limbs.
"Ke-ke-ke, pathetic stunt…!"
As scale weakened, magical power dropped exponentially.
But Gaold didn't care about degraded conditions. He didn't know the word limit.
One millionfold pain — Air Pressing.
Boom!
The octopus was flattened and couldn't withstand it; it burst apart.
Amid a spray of gore, Gaold grimaced.
Wasting the power he had used against Hell on an octopus stung his pride, but before he could dwell on that, intense pain battered his body.
Cage B had been watching Gaold's fight but said little.
Monoros explained the next phase.
"See now. Even the great Gaold, once his scale is reduced, can at most handle an octopus."
"So what now?"
"In the second step, we undo that."
Monoros opened the bag on his back. Hundreds of crickets poured out, swarming.
Vice-captain Horkin nodded, understanding.
"So any form that can enter the arena—you can use numbers?"
"That's right. Reduce the power by scale, then disrupt with swarm tactics. The last is…"
"I'll handle it."
Tarvan stepped forward.
He was the team's Terminator—the hardest hitter.
But Monoros shook his head.
"You'll need a sticker to enter. If you're reduced to the same scale, your Kaiser Blast will be weakened."
"I'll do it."
Another Regulation Exception user, Porcol, volunteered.
To produce enough force at the same scale to kill Gaold, a Regulation Exception was the only option.
Monoros agreed. With Porcol's Regulation Exception, even the mighty Gaold could be subdued.
"Then start."
Hundreds of crickets poured into the arena. Monoros stuck a sticker on Porcol; as his scale shrank, he slipped into the ring.
Regulation Exception — Fantasy Star.
His body began to glow brightly.
When swarms of crickets collided, powerful explosions burst them like shells.
A trade-off of aging for explosions.
He could trade one hour of his lifespan for a 100-kilobuster blast.
Porcol looked like he was in his early forties, but he was actually thirty-two.
His life would shorten as time went on, but a Regulation Exception user could only find their peace inside their trauma.
"What is this now?"
Gaold demolished the waves of crickets that surged at him.
A rank stench filled the air and gruesome fragments flew, but his gaze stayed fixed ahead.
'You think this will hide things…'
Cage B knew exactly what kind of man Michea Gaold—the former head of the Magic Association—was.
The insects were a diversion. The truth would be hidden in the numbers and the filth.
Regulation Exception — Life Short and Intense.
Fwoooooosh!
Porcol accelerated every bit of aging he could muster.
His face withered into a gaunt husk, then into an emaciated corpse, and finally into a bare skull that lunged at Gaold.
His mind at death's door twisted like a greedy old man coveting a youth he could never regain—madness writ large.
"Kihahahahaha! I'll kill Gaold myself!"
Even facing that greed-soaked skull, Gaold was composed.
No—he was tense at the warped obsession a Regulation Exception user would unleash, given their whole life to cast it.
One millionfold pain.
As Gaold gritted his teeth and began to cast, Porcol slammed into him.
"Damn it!"
As Cage B scattered, the arena exploded and a mushroom cloud rose.
The power was beyond what one would expect from something that had been drastically reduced in scale.
"You mad bastard—how long did you think you'd live?"
"Regulation Exception users are always insane. Still…"
Tarvan loosened his shoulders and approached again.
When the step completed and reality folded back, Gaold stood in the smoke.
Anyone who knew Gaold would hardly believe the sight.
His upper garment had been blown away, revealing a muscular, wound-streaked body; his dislocated right shoulder hung slack.
His hair had gone white, and blood ran from many places.
Tarvan felt like applauding with all sincerity.
How many people in this world could withstand a life-for-life exchange cast by a Regulation Exception user?
"Impressive. Honestly—I respect that."
"Now then…"
Gaold forced himself to speak.
"Seven."
The number of deaths from Cage B.
"No—six."
As Tarvan spoke there came a thud. Monoros, the Regulation Exception user, collapsed to the ground, his neck severed.
Even if everyone else avoided the blast, the Regulation Exception caster couldn't move far from the point of release.
But Monoros must not have expected that even after the explosion Gaold's mind would be steady enough to counterattack.
'A monster, indeed.'
"No need to waver."
Rose approached Gaold.
"You're already mortally wounded. Even with fewer numbers, the tide of victory is still ours."
Rose's eyes were as resolute as Gaold's.
To kill Gaold—that was the duty of a mage affiliated with the Association.
"Stop resisting. Surrender now and we'll guarantee your life."
"Kekeke, an enticing offer."
Gaold knew it was a lie.
Rose was the sort who would perjure herself for the mission.
But that also meant Cage B still didn't trust success completely.
Nothing would change. He just had to fight his fight.
"What's left? Didn't you say something about the Final Plan earlier?"
Rose sounded troubled.
They still had utility and amplifier mages, curse and defense mages, but they'd lost too many dealers.
'From now on, if even one dealer dies the odds become dire. Even if I must abandon command, I should die.'
So there was likely only one more chance for a tactical gambit.
Rose bought time to craft a sure plan.
"A person's heart is deceitful. When you're absorbed in something, you can't see anything else."
Gaold remained silent—he needed time too.
"But it can be undone in an instant. Isn't it time to let go? Your emotion is a child's petty crush for what you can't have. Shake it off and move on."
"Maybe that's possible."
Gaold spoke slowly.
"But why must I let go?"
"That is…"
"Rose."
Gaold cut her off.
"You, too, must have truly loved someone."
Rose thought for a moment, then said, "I did."
"Then tell me. The you who's older and no longer childish—have you ever spent your life only to find something more beautiful than that feeling?"
Rose couldn't answer.
"There is nothing childish about loving with your whole heart. There are those who bear pain, and those who cannot and run away. And I…"
Kukukukukukuk—thud!
The air vibrated; the forest trembled, and the atmosphere grew heavy as rebar.
Gaold's face warped into that of a demon as he glared at the world.
"I will never run from my pain."